LITMIR.BIZ

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wait, mother, – to wait. All human wisdom is in this single word. The greatest, the strongest, the most skilful is he who knows how to wait."

      "You may wait, then; I will not."

      Catharine made a courtesy, and stepping towards the door, was about to return to her apartment.

      Charles IX. stopped her.

      "Well, then, really, what is best to be done, mother?" he asked, "for above all I am just, and I would have every one satisfied with me."

      Catharine turned toward him.

      "Come, count," she said to Tavannes, who was caressing the King's shrike, "tell the King your opinion as to what should be done."

      "Will your Majesty permit me?" inquired the count.

      "Speak, Tavannes! – speak."

      "What does your Majesty do when, in the chase, the wounded boar turns on you?"

      "By Heaven! monsieur, I wait for him, with firm foot," replied Charles, "and stab him in the throat with my boar-spear."

      "Simply that he may not hurt you," remarked Catharine.

      "And to amuse myself," said the King, with a sigh which indicated courage easily aroused even to ferocity; "but I should not amuse myself killing my subjects; for, after all, the Huguenots are my subjects, as well as the Catholics."

      "Then, sire," said Catharine, "your subjects, the Huguenots, will do like the wild boar who escapes the spear thrust into his throat: they will bring down the throne."

      "Nonsense! Do you really think so, madame?" said Charles IX., with an air which denoted that he did not place great faith in his mother's predictions.

      "But have you not seen M. de Mouy and his party to-day?"

      "Yes; I have seen them, for I have just left them. But what does he ask for that is not just? He has requested that his father's murderer and the admiral's assassin be put to death. Did we not punish M. de Montgommery for the death of my father and your husband, although that death was a simple accident?"

      "Very well, sire," said Catharine, piqued, "let us say no more. Your majesty is under the protection of that God who gives you strength, wisdom, and confidence. But I, a poor woman whom God abandons, no doubt on account of my sins, fear and yield."

      And having said this, Catharine again courteseyed and left the room, making a sign to the Duc de Guise, who had at that moment entered, to remain in her place, and try a last effort.

      Charles IX. followed his mother with his eye, but this time did not recall her. He then began to caress his dogs, whistling a hunting-air.

      He suddenly paused.

      "My mother," said he, "is a royal spirit, and has scruples! Really, now, it is a cool proposal, to kill off some dozens of Huguenots because they come to demand justice! Is it not their right?"

      "Some dozens!" murmured the Duc de Guise.

      "Ah! are you here, sir?" said the King, pretending to see him for the first time. "Yes, some dozens. A tolerable waste of life! Ah! if any one came to me and said; 'Sire, you shall be rid of all your enemies at once, and to-morrow there shall not remain one to reproach you with the death of the others,' why, then, I do not say" —

      "Well, sire?"

      "Tavannes," said the King, "you will tire Margot; put her back on her perch. It is no reason, because she bears the name of my sister, the Queen of Navarre, that every one should caress her."

      Tavannes put the hawk on her perch, and amused himself by curling and uncurling a greyhound's ears.

      "But, sire, if any one should say to your Majesty: 'Sire, your Majesty shall be delivered from all your enemies to-morrow'?"

      "And by the intercession of what saint would this miracle be wrought?"

      "Sire, to-day is the 24th of August, and therefore it would be by the interposition of Saint Bartholomew."

      "A worthy saint," replied the King, "who allowed himself to be skinned alive!"

      "So much the better; the more he suffered, the more he ought to have felt a desire for vengeance on his executioners."

      "And will you, my cousin," said the King, "will you, with your pretty little gold-hilted sword, slay ten thousand Huguenots between now and to-morrow? Ha! ha! ha! mort de ma vie! you are very amusing, Monsieur de Guise!"

      And the King burst into a loud laugh, but a laugh so forced that the room echoed with its sinister sound.

      "Sire, one word – and one only," continued the duke, shuddering in spite of himself at the sound of that laugh, which had nothing human in it, – "one signal, and all is ready. I have the Swiss and eleven hundred gentlemen; I have the light horse and the citizens; your Majesty has your guards, your friends, the Catholic nobility. We are twenty to one."

      "Well, then, cousin, since you are so strong, why the devil do you come to fill my ears with all this? Act without me – act" —

      And the King turned again to his dogs.

      Then the portière was raised, and Catharine reappeared.

      "All goes well," she said to the duke; "urge him, and he will yield."

      And the portière fell on Catharine, without Charles IX. seeing, or at least appearing to see her.

      "But yet," continued De Guise, "I must know if, in acting as I desire, I shall act agreeably to your Majesty's views."

      "Really, cousin Henry, you put the knife to my throat! But I shall live. By Heaven! am I not the king?"

      "No, not yet, sire; but, if you will, you shall be so to-morrow."

      "Ah – what!" continued Charles, "you would kill the King of Navarre, the Prince de Condé – in my Louvre – ah!"

      Then he added, in a voice scarcely audible, – "Without the walls, I do not say" —

      "Sire," cried the duke, "they are going out this evening to join in a revel with your brother, the Duc d'Alençon."

      "Tavannes," said the King, with well-affected impatience, "do not you see that you are teasing the dog? Here, Actéon, – come!"

      And Charles IX. went out without waiting to hear more, and Tavannes and the Duc de Guise were left almost as uncertain as before.

      Meantime another scene was passing in Catharine's apartment. After she had given the Duc de Guise her counsel to remain firm, she returned to her rooms, where she found assembled the persons who were usually present when she went to bed.

      Her face was now as full of joy as it had been downcast when she set out. With her most agreeable manner she dismissed her women one by one and her courtiers, and there remained only Madame Marguerite, who, seated on a coffer near the open window, was looking at the sky, absorbed in thought.

      Two or three times, when she thus found herself alone with her daughter, the queen mother opened her mouth to speak, but each time a gloomy thought withheld the words ready to escape her lips.

      Suddenly the portière was raised, and Henry of Navarre appeared.

      The little greyhound, which was asleep on the throne, leaped up and bounded towards him.

      "You here, my son!" said Catharine, starting. "Do you sup in the Louvre to-night?"

      "No, madame," replied Henry, "we are going into the city to-night, with Messieurs d'Alençon and De Condé. I almost expected to find them here paying their court to you."

      Catharine smiled.

      "Go, gentlemen, go – men are so fortunate in being able to go about as they please! Are they not, my daughter?"

      "Yes," replied Marguerite, "liberty is so glorious, so sweet a thing."

      "Does that imply that I restrict yours, madame?" inquired Henry, bowing to his wife.

      "No, sire; I do not complain for myself, but for women in general."

      "Are you going to see the admiral, my son?" asked Catharine.

      "Yes,

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